He was sat at the table next to mine. He had dark, tousled hair and curious, blue eyes. Upon his face was a large, mischievous smirk. Slowly, he got up and started to approach me. That was when I realised that he was dressed in nothing but black. Black leather jacket - Armani, for sure - over a black fitted top with black skinny jeans and black boots. As if he wasn't hot enough.
My heart began to race; it felt like it was trying to beat it's way out of my chest. My palms became sweaty, and I suddenly had the urge to fidget. Just as I was about to jump from my seat, he sat down opposite me.
"H-h-hi," I stuttered.
"Hello," he slurred.
"Who are you?" I blurted out.
"Well, Little Miss Straight-To-The-Point, who are you?" he teased.
"L-L-Lizzie."
"Well, Lizzie, I am Damon. Damon Salvatore. Your worst nightmare." He flashed a smile so bright that it could probably blind someone, then licked his lips hungrily.
"Wait, Salvatore? As in Stefan Salvatore?" Grateful that the stuttering had stopped, I peered over to where Elena and Stefan were sat with Caroline, Matt, and Bonnie Bennett.
"Yeah, that's my little brother," Damon grinned proudly. "Cute, isn't he?"
I couldn't help but nod. "Sure is," I muttered.
"Well, I suppose he's not too bad," Damon decided. "But I'm the hotter, more superior choice."
"You got that right." My eyes widened, and I began hyperventilating. Did I just say that? Out loud?
I allowed my light blond hair to fall around my face in a poor attempt to hide the fact that I was blushing. Risking a glance at Damon, I realised he was perfectly cool.
"Relax," he sighed. "You're only confirming what everyone in here knows as the truth."
Before I got to reply, I was saved by a deep, sensuous voice behind me that made me shiver. "Damon, what are you doing?" Stefan was my saviour. Oh, Hell.
"Nothing much, brother," Damon shrugged. I looked up at Stefan. He was...concerned. "I'm just talking to dear Lizzie."
Stefan turned to me. "Do you mind if I have a word with my brother?"
I shook my head. "Of course not."
Damon got up from his seat and reluctantly followed Stefan. They headed towards the pool table. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to read their lips, but I wasn't very good at it, so it didn't really work. It was only a minute or two later that they returned. Damon resumed his seat and Stefan headed back over to Elena and the gang.
"Never mind my brother," Damon huffed. "He's jealous. He's still...grieving."
"Grieving?" I asked.
"His ex-girlfriend. She died a while ago, and he hasn't been the same since. I reckon he's on the rebound. Which, of course, is a massive shame, because that Elena girl is quite something." He stopped what he was saying, as if he'd only just realised that he was saying it. "Oops. I've said too much again, haven't I? Just forget I've said anything." Then he smiled again. My head began to throb. I felt like I was going to faint.
Everything around me began spinning. The pain in my head became excruciating. Colour began to fade to black. I was out of it before I could register what was happening.
*****
"Ah, the beautiful Lizzie is starting to come around," a voice murmured from somewhere beside me. I tried to sit up, but a strong hand pressed against my chest, keeping me down. I blinked.
"Damon?" I whined.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Where am I?"
"My bedroom."
I opened my eyes and bolted upright before anyone could stop me. Looking around, my jaw dropped open. This is Damon Salvatore's bedroom? Jesus Christ.
"Why am I here?" I groaned. "What am I doing in your bedroom?"
"You fainted," he said, raising one eyebrow. "Remember?"
"So you brought me here?"
He raised his hands in a mock surrender. "Hey, I was just trying to help. Don't blame me for being the good guy."
"I thought you said that you were my worst nightmare. If you're a nightmare, then how can you be the good guy?"
He smirked. "Touché."
"So, what happened after I fainted?"
"I took the liberty of carrying you to my wonderful home. My brother, of course, tried to take you from me and get you back to your mother, but I told him to attend to Elena and let me worry about your whereabouts. It's typical Stefan. Always trying to play Mother Hen."
"Okay. So, you're the hero this evening. Hooray for you."
He clicked his tongue. "It's never too good to be sarcastic, Lizzie."
"Hypocritical, much."
"Very much," he agreed.
"Can I please use your bathroom?" I questioned, running my hands through my hair. "I need to splash my face."
"Sure. Right through there." He pointed to an open door. I thanked him, then went in.
The place was huge - for a bathroom, anyway. There was a large bathtub and a very spacious walk-in shower. Nice. So, this is how the other half live. God, I hate being poor. I headed over to the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. My pale skin had turned bright red with humiliation. My wavy, blonde hair was surprisingly smooth and tidy. My grey eyes were bloodshot. I looked a state. Turning on the cold tap, I filled my hands with water, bent my head over the sink, and threw the water against my face. It felt incredibly refreshing.
Much to my dismay, I hadn't shut the door. Damon had walked in, and was standing by the bathtub. "Why don't you just take a bath?" he prompted.
"I'm fine, thank you," I insisted, immediately catching on to what he was trying to do. Well, sorry, Mr Salvatore, but that game is a bit old.
"Come and lay down then." He started towards me. I tried to move, but my feet were rooted into the floorboards. Oh, Hell.
"I...really must get home," I gulped. "My mother will be worried." Damon's face was now inches from mine. Now I could really look into his eyes. It was like looking into icy-blue crystals. He brought his little finger up and lightly ran it over my lips.
Before I knew it, I was in his arms. His lips were crushing against mine. My head began yelling - no, screaming - at me to stop. To break away from this embrace and storm out of here. But my heart was refusing to let go. After all, this is Stefan Salvatore's older brother! I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
It wasn't long before I had backed into the shower, my lips still attached to Damon's. Damon had switched on the shower spray, and hot water began to trickle down my shirt.
"Oh, look, I've got you all wet," he purred. Then he took my top of and started kissing my collar bone.
He paused, stepping back to slowly peel off his black t-shirt. I eyed him wearily. After slyly removing most of his clothing, he returned to kissing me.
After a while I had to prop myself up against the wall. I began to feel dazed again. But, I wasn't going to let fainting ruin my chance with Damon again. Just this morning I had been sulking around because I didn't have Stefan, but, here I am with his brother, who is probably the hottest guy in town. Much hotter than Stefan himself, anyway. So, if I could just tighten my grip on consciousness, maybe Elena and I could get to know each other again through double dating.
"Damon," I moaned. "I think I'm going to faint again."
He grunted with aggravation, but before I had a chance to protest, he had made my knees give way and was carrying me back into his room. Without hesitation, he literally threw me onto the soft bed. And then he was kissing me again. With every kiss, my heart skipped a beat. So, by now, I should be dead.
I tried to sit up a bit, but Damon's weight was holding me down. He's not heavy, but he's certainly not light. Typical man. Not that I would know. I usually go for the younger guys.
It was as I tried once again to squirm that I felt a sharp pain in my neck. It started off as nothing more than a pin prick, but then the pain grew stronger. More noticeable. Damon was biting me.
"Damon," I whispered. "No. Damon, please. Get off me. Please, Damon, no." I pressed my hand against Damon's forehead, trying to shove him away. It didn't work.
As the pain became stronger, and much more vivid, everything began to fade all over again. Oh, God, I thought. Then all I could see was black.
*****
My hand immediately came up to cover my neck. Ouch.
I rose from the bed, careful not to make a sound. I carried on until I was in the bathroom - this time with the door closed and locked. I removed my hand from my neck and gasped at my reflection in the mirror.
On the right side of my neck was a large, bloody, open wound. Surrounding it was a very thick layer of dried crimson. I gulped. Disgusting. I turned on the taps and kept my eyes on the sink.
"Hello." The voice made my knees buckle and my back go stiff.
"Damon," I swallowed. "Get away from me." I picked up the first weapon I saw. A shard of glass in the waste bin. It already has blood on it. What the Hell?
"Come on, Lizzie," Damon raised his hands into a taunting defence motion. "Please, be reasonable here."
"Be reasonable?" I asked hysterically, breathing heavily. "Be reasonable? Who are you; some fucking mad man? You bit me, Damon Salvatore. I don't know what on Earth you are, but you bloody bit me." I gestured to the wound on my neck. "You did this to me. You're a monster."
"Not a monster, exactly," he shrugged. "Just a vampire."
"A-A-A vampire?"
"No. I'm a pussy-cat," he spat. "Of course I'm a vampire, you idiot. Come on. Didn't you see my awesome fangs? I can show you them again, if you'd like me to."
"Stay away from me," I warned, holding up the shard of glass.
He laughed a long, dry laugh, throwing his head back. My eyes widened as I took in everything.
And, before I could defend myself, Damon Salvatore pushed me back onto the wooden floorboards and the pain started all over again.